


Rogue's Gallery

by Donteatthefootcream



Series: Winning Over Hearts [5]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: And in the Gotham universe Scriddler wouldn't be appropriate romantically, Ed has secrets, Ed's getting what he wants, Gotham Museum, I don't read enough comics to ship Scriddler but I'm putting it in for fun, I love Lark, I'm making a friendly Scriddler in this, Iceberg Lounge, M/M, Murder Husbands, Mutual Pining, Selina is back, They're going to rule together at some point, Vilain Catch-Up, Villain meeting, You All Better Sing the Shady's Back Song When Jeremiah Appears lol, hideouts, obvious pining, part of a series, sphinx
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-17 06:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donteatthefootcream/pseuds/Donteatthefootcream
Summary: Due to Ed's growing manipulation over Gotham City with his horrific puzzle game show(that's what he calls it) the villains have now come to believe joining Ed as allies would be smart. With Ed revealing new tricks, Oswald is beginning to doubt their trust. And, Ed continues his mastery of deception as he teams up with Jeremiah Valeska.





	Rogue's Gallery

**Author's Note:**

> I am SO sorry this took so long to make and publish. My friend got me hooked into Supernatural* and that's all I've been doing apart from going to the gym. Time went by so fast. 
> 
> This is part of a series. I fully recommend going back and reading the other parts before reading this.  
>  
> 
> *Cas deserves better and Destiel is canon. Fight me.

It was only a matter of time before Oswald was going to be forced to face another problem thanks to Edward Nygma. And tonight was that night. The Iceberg Lounge is open an hour earlier than usual to take care of the 

_meeting_ without any interruptions from the guests. Honestly, Oswald would rather be doing   _anything_ else than this tonight, but he’s a businessman and business is business. And, who else were they supposed to go for protection or advice? Edward? They know better than that. 

 

 

The first person to arrive is Ivy, who the city knows as Poison Ivy. THe name is far more creative than some Oswald has to admit. And, he’ll never say it, but he’s glad to have Ivy on his side again. She’s powerful with her potions, plants, and botanokinesis. Her potions of truth through seduction and admiration will never be able to work on Oswald, but that won’t be able to stop her from being a threat.  

 

However, she’s more independent and mature than the last time they were allies. And, Oswald isn’t sure how he feels about that. She was kind to him when she was more dependent and always willing to help. He really screwed that one up even if he’d never apologize.

 

She picks the seat beside him at the booth as the last three decide to arrive. Oswald isn’t sure how this is going to play out, none of them having great experiences with him in the past. He might have the best luck with Crane, but this is Gotham afterall. No one can be trusted.

 

Professionals serve the meal this time. Oswald isn’t going to allow patients from a mental institution touch his food again. And, it looks as if the rest of the group agrees. Although, Jerome might have been charming and manipulative enough to begin a cult it doesn’t mean everything he did was agreed with. For example, letting a man serve them food without using the tongs. Oswald did  _not_ touch the food that late morning. 

 

“I’m well aware that this meeting is about-” Oswald begins only to be cut off.

 

“Get your boy toy under control, Penguin, or we’ll have to deal with him ourselves,” Bridgit threatens.

 

Oswald forces a fake smile. “As you can see on television every night,  _Firefly,_ he isn’t the type of man to take control of.”

 

Ivy grins, resting her elbow on the table to hold her chin. No one notices her reaction, or their would be questions asked no one needed to know the answers to.

 

“I could use my new formula. To  _crack_ him,” Jonathan offers in his ever so creepy voice. 

 

“That won’t be needed, I assure you,” Oswald replies, hiding his fists under the table.

 

Ivy takes a sip of her drink.  “I think you should have put more security around the Edsicle, Oswald. This wouldn’t be happening if you did,” Ivy complains. “And when I mean ‘this’, I mean threats directed towards him.”

 

“He was worthless after his escape,” Oswald snaps, attempting to defend himself, “I didn’t see this coming when I let him go.”

 

She scoffs. “Worthless? Come now, Oswald. I was there, you’re head over heels for that… crazy genius. We all know you were the one who  _made_ Strange bring him back.”

 

“I could freeze him,” Fries suggests.

 

“No! None of you will be freezing, cooking, or mentally torturing anyone! Knowing him, he will be the one coming out alive, not you. He’s one step ahead of  _every_ person in this city,” Oswald argues.

 

“Exactly, Oswald! If he’s going to listen to anyone it’ll be you!” Ivy points out.

 

So much has gone on since they last saw each other, yet she can see his weaknesses. He never should have opened up to her those few weeks of their beginning… alliance.

 

There’s the slamming of one of those side doors to the club which causes everyone at the table to sit up straight, reaching for their weapons. The slam is followed by the sound of heels clicking across the floor and a whistling. Unlike anyone else, Oswald  _knows_ who’s approaching. 

 

“Why am I  _NEVER_  invited to these villain meetings?!” Ed demands, hands on his hips. “My life would have gone a  _whole_ lot smoother if I was invited to the last one.”

 

Oswald hides his face in his hands as Ed makes his way to the table. Ed pulls over a chair, purposely having it scrape across the floor, and puts it between Ivy and Crane. His golden, question mark shaped cane is rested against the table and held with his legs, strongly protected from being grabbed.

 

“I heard the last meeting was given a title. League of Horribles, correct? Well, since the leader is six feet under I suggest a new title,” Ed says. He gestures to Oswald, “Due to Oswald being the most  _powerful_ person in this group I believe he should be the leader. As for the title? How about the Rogue’s Gallery? More complimenting. We’re not horrible  _and_  we’re part of a  gallery _._ ”

 

Ivy smiles. “Have to admit, I’m not against that even though you weren’t invited.”

 

“You can’t be serious,” Bridgit groans. “We’re here to discuss how to stop  _him,_ yet you’re accepting his suggestions? If you want to seduce him bring out your perfume.”

 

“I would  _never_ try to steal someone else’s man.”

 

Oswald looks up and waves his hand to gain one of the servers’ attention. Anything to distract him from the set of eyes on him.

 

“Ed, why are you here?” Oswald asks after telling the server to bring a grasshopper for the gatecrasher.

 

“I was interested to see what you all would be conversing about. I have eyes and ears all over the city.  I take pride in putting myself in Big Brother’s shoes. It feels great to make people paranoid as all hell.”

 

“Big Brother?” Bridgit asks.

 

Ed opens his mouth in shock and then looks at Oswald. “This is what I meant, Ozzie! Everyone in this town are such idiots!” He looks back at Firefly. “What the hell were you doing your whole childhood not to know a  _classic_?”

 

“Being abused my mother’s lover’s children,” She replies dryly.

 

“My mother was absent and my father mentally and physically abused me, yet I know.”

 

“Ed-!” Oswald exclaims. He’s not upset with Ed’s honesty, but that wasn’t what to say. 

 

Ed sighs, taking his drink from the server. “My apologies, that was… uncalled for. We should build a relationship off of our pasts. It might help cope.”

 

“Oh shut up you freak.”

 

He laughs. “Oh, I  _like_  you.” Ed leans back in his chair, throwing his arm around Ivy’s shoulder only for it to be violently pushed away. It doesn’t faze him. “Anyway, I’m going to guess that you’re all thinking of a way to get rid of me. And, you have a reasonable, but also  _stupid_  idea that Oswald is going to assist you with that.”

 

“How about we make the Rogue Gallery a thing, Nygma?” Ivy replies. “If we form an alliance we can help each other when needed. You won’t interrupt our plans, and we won’t interrupt yours.”

 

Ed points at her with a smile. “For someone who’s been through so much voodoo these last couple of years you sure are smart!”

 

“I’ve been fighting for survival my whole life, Nygma. I know how to make compromises and solutions to stay alive.”

 

“We all have so much in common! This,  _her_ plan, will work out so splendidly!” 

 

The rest of the dinner meeting went on with full tension, barely anyone speaking. Well, Ed spoke plenty. Most of it was towards Crane about his fear serums and how  _interesting_ he finds them. Ed barely gained a response from him until he admitted that fear is the greatest weapon when it comes to enemies. Firefly and Fries left early with some lame excuses which Oswald   _completely_ understood. In the end, Ed and Crane were talking and Ivy was left with Oswald.

 

“I know love is a whole thing with you, but watch out, Penguin,” Ivy whispers before getting up from the table to leave..

 

With all of them gone it leaves Ed and Oswald alone. Ed should be making a run for it, the guests soon to be allowed in for the night, but he stays. He should’ve been airing his game show, because the  _contestants_ are completing challenges to win a prize, thirty minutes ago.

 

“Ed, shouldn’t you be doing your  _thing_ right now?” Oswald reminds, looking at the clock. 

 

“Like I mentioned earlier, I was aware of this meeting. I filmed it earlier than usual and programmed it to run at the given time. You didn’t see tonight thanks to your meeting. I don’t think they’re fans.”

 

“Don’t tell them I told you, but everyone, except for Ivy, is intimidated by you.”

 

Ed grins. “I like to see the effect I have on people.  _Brilliant._ ”

 

Although it is nice to see Ed happy over his accomplishments, Oswald can’t help himself to keep thinking about what Ed told Firefly. That must have been the story for another time.  _His childhood._

 

“Ed, can we discuss what you said about your childhood earlier?”

 

His smile, unfortunately, falls. His posture slouches as if the energy is drained from him. He crosses his arms and looks anywhere that isn’t Oswald’s face for the longest time. Oswald overstepped, he can feel it.

 

“I overreached. I-”

 

“No, Oswald. Don’t apologize, I did bring it up.” Ed sighs. “He wasn’t very nice, Oswald. Up until the point where my mom left, I would hear them arguing over whose fault it was for me. Who hated me more. And then, I was left with  _him._ He called me a liar and a cheat for being smarter than him. He hit me. He didn’t accept anything about me no matter how hard I tried to be good enough for him. Although I hate to admit it, the way he impacted me, most definitely my ways of thinking, is why I do the things I do. I leave behind clues to  _prove_ that I did it. My killings, torturing methods, riddles, tricks, puzzles, and everything else is to show that I  _am_  smart. It’s   _hell_ to live the life I do, Oswald.”

 

“You didn’t deserve it, Ed. You  _are_ a genius.”

 

Ed chuckles dryly, looking away from him. “I  _knew_ you were going to say that, Oswald! Do you know how many times as a child I would comfort myself with that thought?  _Millions of times!_  And, it doesn’t make any of it go away. I appreciate you trying to show care, I do, but there is   _nothing_ you can do to stop these impulsives I have from my childhood. The memories. The occurring self loathing.”

 

“Ed-”

 

“I hide things about me from myself. Things that he would never approve of. One of those thoughts, or simply a trait of mine, would have benefited me greatly over a year ago if he had stopped haunting my head.”

 

“Can I ask what it is?”

 

Ed shrugs. “You already know what it is.”

 

“No. No, I don’t.”

 

Ed stands up, straightening his green suit jacket. “You do. I’ve told you. Think about it, Ozzie.” He places his hand on Oswald’s shoulder. “I’ll be in touch.”

 

Within the next five minutes, the Lounge was full and the very presence of Edward Nygma became nonexistent.

 

 

Ever since Jeremiah Valeska triggered the chaos in Gotham City no one has dared to leave their houses except for food and work. The villains run through the streets killing, scaring, stealing, and any other twisted idea they can think of. The city is hardly functioning with the militia and darkness flooding the city.

 

But, the abandonment of buildings for recreation is  _very_ helpful to the one, Edward Nygma. No one intrudes and the place has everything he could  _hope_ for. Silence, interesting exhibits, and plenty of rooms to hide in if someone  _dares_ to invite themselves in. If someone were to invade, they don’t make it out without starring on his show. They’re usually druggies looking for somewhere to lay low. No one is going to miss them or make connections. 

 

His favorite part of the museum is the giant sphinx. Most likely due to the fact that they have so much in common when it comes to riddles. The sphinx is  _famous_ for asking travelers riddles for them to continue pass. Ed wouldn’t say he was inspired by the creature, but its methods are greatly appreciated by him. 

 

Ed is expecting some  _idiot_ to come strutting through this building to end his “evil doings” at some point. It’s either going to be the corrupted Jim Gordon or some nobody hero who wants to make a name for himself. Ed would be incredibly dimwitted to believe this won’t an outcome of his current behavior. As for now, he’s protected by his solitude in this  _giant_ building and the trap he has set for the  _hero_ to accomplish. Well, truthfully, the people in this city don’t have the valuable mind he has. The trap will never be accomplished. That was the plan. 

 

Admittedly, Ed can see Lee Thompkins walking through those doors to attempt his rigged trap. But, he hopes that won’t be the case. He’s sure that she doesn’t have the time or patience to deal with him again. And, she did sign a contract with Oswald to leave him alone.

 

Ed can envision a handful of people walking through those front doors to speak with him, yet he was not expecting  _him_ to walk in ever so calmly on his live security footage. The man has been a no show for months. No one can tell where he’s gone, including Bruce Wayne, the teenage boy who he has taken quite a fond liking for. 

 

_Jeremiah Valeska was not the person Ed wanted to speak with._

 

To openly tell everyone that he is sane as he blows up buildings and kills people will forever be a bad sign. That’s simply unstable and unsettling. This man might be a builder. Might be a genius who creates devious and marvelous plans for his goal, but no, this was a man Edward Nygma did not want to be acquainted with. They might share much in common, however, their motivations and personalities were different.

 

Besides, Ed has learned. He’s better off working alone.

 

Ed grabs his cane on the way out the office door. Jeremiah Valeska wasn’t here to fight or stop him, most likely here to discuss domestic arrangements. Even so, Ed was not going to go down there  and meet an unstable man without protection. He isn’t an idiot.

 

“What kind of hat is that?” Ed questions. He isn’t going to waste time for introductions.

 

The man chuckles, taking off his hat with his concerning pale hand. The action reveals dark, almost black, purple hair that certainly make the eerie pale blue eyes clear. A quick look at this man’s appearance can send shivers down anyone’s spine. What Ed really wonders is  _why_ the man won’t take time for some contacts and a tan. If you’re going to destroy a city at least  _try_ to look decent. 

 

“Mr. Nygma-”

 

Ed leans on his cane. “Mr. Valeska, I don’t care  _who_ you are or  _what_ your intentions are. By walking in here, you have threatened me and my safety. I will let you know, this cane is charged and ready to launch 700 volts of electricity. I suggest you leave now with a promise of complete and utter silence about my whereabouts, or I   _will_ have to kill you. I’d rather you chose the latter.”

 

“Your paranoia is unnecessary. I’m hoping to make a deal-”

 

“My paranoia is absolutely necessary. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m a wanted man for over two dozen murders. If you were hoping to make a deal you should have spoken to Oswald Cobblepot, the Penguin.”

 

“You see, Mr. Penguin and I don’t have a friendly relationship at the moment-”

 

“Not my problem. You shouldn’t have wronged him. Think wisely next time.” Ed lifts up his cane, aiming it at the strange man’s heart. “Any last words?”

 

“I’m looking for a partnership!”

 

Ed slides his matter of volts down to nonlethal. “That was a strong waste of last words.”

 

The small golden button is pressed by his hand to attack his intruder. He watches as the purple haired man writhes under the volts of electricity shooting through him until his body collapses to the ground.

 

Ed walks over to the unconscious man and leans over him, looking at his nearly still body.

 

“Don’t make me regret letting you live,” Ed grumbles, putting the curve of the question mark over his arm to drag the dead weight to a separate room by his shoulders.

 

 

Jeremiah doesn’t get a moment to recoup. Ed’s shines a bright flashlight in his eyes just to bother him. If the day goes Ed’s way, Jeremiah won’t be alive by the end of it. What does it matter if he plays with him for a moment?

 

“Why are you looking for a partnership?” Ed forcibly requests, leaning on the arms of the chair Jeremiah is tied to.

 

“Tying me to this chair and electrocuting me wasn’t needed,” Jeremiah speaks calmly.

 

Ed cocks his head in a shrug. “Maybe not.” He flashes Jeremiah a shit grinning grin. “Now answer my question.”

 

“By your lack of concern for this city, television productions, and the way you walk through this city with such ease I’m beginning to think you couldn’t care less if this city was saved or not. I’m sure you can see that this city is falling apart. There’s chaos on the streets, the city is becoming overgrown, and the militia can only do so much. I started this with the hopes to rebuild it. Join me in doing so. Mold these people to reach your standards, or, this might be more pleasing, have these people at your fingertips to humiliate with their lack of knowledge. Together, we could make this city better than it ever was.”

 

Ed moves away from the pale man. It’s tempting, he’ll be truthful. The man is right, he does  _not_ care about this city. Only himself and the person he holds, he wish he didn’t, ever so dear. The rest of the citizens could die tomorrow morning and it wouldn’t shake him. He’s heard Metropolis is so much better anyway.

 

If he were to help shape this city into his own, that would help his idiot problem. He could host a quiz show where the losers would be killed. The show would clean the city of the people who drive him insane the most fairly quickly. The downside? The result will be the majority of the population missing. There wouldn’t be a city to run then.  _Damn._

 

He could double-cross, Jeremiah. Join him and gain the strange man’s trust and every detail of the plan. He’ll form a way to destroy his plan in one go, no chances of failure. But, he would be doing that under the very slim chances of someone outsmarting him. Then, he would free this city and stop Jeremiah in the midst of it.

 

Not for popularity gain.  _Oh no._ He gave up on that a  _long_ time ago. It would be a game where he would be the single person with the rules, and he would be able to prove himself while doing so. 

 

“Hmm… I am interested. Clearly, there is much more to talk about, but I’ll bite,” Ed replies.

 

Jeremiah smiles. And it sure is freaky to say the least. “I’m thrilled. And, if you don’t mind me asking, may you untie me?”

 

Ed chuckles. “Oh yes.”

 

He resists the urge to laugh as he unties the man.  _No one_ should trust a single word that comes out of his mouth. Every person is going to get it in the end. He might not lie often, but he is  _very_ good at holding back information. 

 

 

To be in power, ways to keep that power come with it. For one, friendships and alliances are to be avoided at all costs. Oswald tries to keep up with that one, but damn, people push so hard. Ivy comes and talks to him about such  _mature_ topics or gossip about him, how can he not respond? And Ed? Ed’s a completely different story. In the simplest terms, he’s hard to resist for too long. 

 

Protection, good protection that costs an arm and leg, is another way. He has kept his loyal goons, paid more than they really should be, but after the events several months ago Oswald has learned that he  _needs_ professionals. Unfortunately, Zsasz didn’t work out due to his past connections. Luckily, Zsasz is not the only man, or woman, in town that knows how to do the job  _painfully_ well.

 

That’s where Lark comes in. She’s his chauffeur, bodyguard, hitman, and usually his plus one to any meetings that unofficially require it. Although she doesn’t talk as freely and as much as Victor Zsasz, he can tell there’s a human in there. She really only talks about her next job of the priorities of the day, but at those fancy dinners she does open up.  _Only a bit._

 

Oswald isn’t looking for company though.

 

And, money is  _cherished_ by anyone no matter how many times someone can deny its importance. Oswald has a surplus of money. He has certain amounts of money saved for specific deeds. Paying off cops, bribery, and buying more man power. He learned almost five years ago how far money can go in the world of gangs. 

 

“Lark, I must ask, how the  _hell_ did  _the Riddler_ enter my club tonight without me being notified?” Oswald demands. 

 

“I found some of my men knocked out at the back door-” She explains.

 

“By what? What was the cause of it?”

 

Knowing  _how_ Ed managed to knock two burly, big men was critical. He needs to know what Ed has behind him when it comes to weapons and backup. Ed might be tall, but he surely isn’t big or significantly strong. That’s what makes him remarkable. He’s more brains than brawn. 

 

“No blunt force drama,” She replies. “I, I believe it was electrocution.”

 

“ _E_ _lectrocution?_ Great!” He slams his hands to his sides. Of course Ed has picked that as his new defense. He can’t be simple.  

 

“Sir, there’s security footage we could look at? To see what he carries with him that holds that much electricity?”

 

“Good idea, Lark. Bring it here.”

 

With a nod, she leaves the room.

 

Lark is his most trusted employee. She knows more than most of the staff when it comes to heists, bribes, or any other illegitimate act this business participates in. She isn’t allowed to be aware of anything else though. She doesn’t know about Ed, or his mother. She  _can’t_ know his weaknesses. And, if she expresses any knowledge of the sort he won’t hesitate to put a bullet in her brain. She’s a fantastic asset, but she can be replaced if needed. 

 

She returns quickly with a tablet, rounding around the table to stand by his side. On the screen is poorly colored footage of the back door. He watches as she skips through most of the day until suddenly the guards do something. They turn as if there’s a knock from behind them and when they open it to inspect the cause, there’s a startling blue-white sparks that burst from outside. After they drop, Ed walks in and slips his cane into a comfortable holding position.

 

 _The damn cane._ That’s why Ed brought it with him this evening. That’s why he was protective of at the table. The cane is his secret weapon which Oswald is  _sure_ not limited to just electric shocks. Oswald knows him. Ed would put all sorts of tricks and quirks into that thing. 

 

“Mr. Penguin, what do you want my men to do about him? We can’t just easily disarm him when he walks through the door if he has such power in his hands,” Lark tells him.

 

“Yes, you are correct,” Oswald sighs. “I’ll talk with him. With his recent behavior, I don’t think he’ll hesitate to be unkind to any of the workers here who form an obstacle, or interruption to his daily life.”

 

“Very well, sir. Anything else?”

 

“Not for now. Thank you for showing me this. I will inform you when Mr.  _Riddler_ and I have come to an agreement.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Oswald doesn’t focus on her as he leaves. He cares for Ed and respects his want for a new reputation in this city, but he doesn’t appreciate Ed coming into this facility with weapons and then attacking his people for entry. He understands his like for entrances, but this irks him.

 

To Oswald, it feels as if Ed has plenty of tricks up his sleeve. And, that thought is not at all comforting. He wants to trust Ed, but how can he with the man's impeccable skill of keeping secrets? 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I created the Rogue's Gallery. And, yes, my idea of season five Ed seems to be off at least physically wise. I refuse to give him that hair, but I might bring something else in. Also, I REALLY want Lark to be in Gotham. It might be too soon with the ages and stuff, but ugh, I love the thought of her in the show. 
> 
> Additionally, I'm going to go through a terrible family loss soon and even though I don't believe the wait for the next part will be as long, I just want to put that out there. I'm hoping to completely finish what I want to do with this story in the upcoming week so I can have a more collected story. 
> 
> Like always, thank you for reading and leaving kudos or comments. :)


End file.
